For a moment, Zachariah had been confident that he had won. The way that Castiel had been looking down, almost like a kicked puppy, had him feeling all kinds of cheerful about the way their confrontation was going to finish. He would pat Castiel on the head, declare that he needed to go clean up his mess and go about the mission the right way, and give him a nifty little statement about how this was all for their Father to finish him off. Yet when Castiel dared to question his authority and the source of his commands, Zachariah's eyes narrowed and he damn neared launched himself forward at him. With a little restraint, however, Zachariah remained rooted in place with that same unsettling smile plastered across his face.
"They belong to God and God alone," Zachariah lied, his voice coming out stiffly. "Perhaps you're slipping more than I truly believed." Zachariah ventured forward a silent step, fighting the urge to grab Castiel by his dirty trench-coat. He really wanted to haul the pathetic excuse of an angel upstairs, where there would be others to make sure that Castiel understood why doing as he said was very, very important.
"To think that you would question the will of our Father; or, worse yet, that you would believe someone who has been loyally dedicating himself to him for all of eternity -" Only to receive nothing back from the self-righteous bastard. "- would lie about God's command." Zachariah shook his head critically. "I should send you to Heaven for such words, Castiel."